LEGENDS OF IRISH RUGBY

This edition, 2006

Copyright © John Scally, 2005

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

First published in Great Britain in 2005 by

MAINSTREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY (EDINBURGH) LTD

7 Albany Street

Edinburgh EH1 3UG

ISBN 1 84596 108 0

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for insertion in a newspaper, magazine or broadcast

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

To the memory of John McCall and Tom Rooney.

Gone too soon but never to be forgotten.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THOSE WHO CAN DO. THOSE WHO CAN’T TALK AND WRITE about it.

I am very grateful to the many rugby legends, past and present, who shared their memories and personal anecdotes with me. It was a case of the who’s who of Irish rugby sharing with the ‘Who’s he?’ of Irish rugby.

My thanks in particular to Willie Anderson, Peter Clohessy, Victor Costello, Noel Coughlan, Gordon D’Arcy, Paul Dean, Girvan Dempsey, the late Mick Doyle, Mick English, Ciaran Fitzgerald, Mick Galwey, Simon Geoghegan, Jim Glennon, Tom Grace, Ray Gravell, Rob Henderson, Denis Hickie, David Humphreys, Moss Keane, Jack Kyle, Donal Lenihan, Willie John McBride, Jim McCarthy, Barry McGann, Paul McNaughton, Hugo MacNeill, Philip Matthews, Eric Miller, Johnny Moloney, Geordan Murphy, Des O’Brien, Phil O’Callaghan, Paul O’Connell, Brian, Frank, Geraldine and John O’Driscoll, Ronan O’Gara, Eddie O’Sullivan, Phil Orr, Colin Patterson, Paddy Reid, John Robbie, Fergus Slattery, David Wallace, Tony Ward and Pat Whelan.

I am also grateful to Niall Barry, Gerry Casey, Suzanne Costello, Carmel Dempsey, Helen Glennon, Suzanne O’Connell, Dara O’Neill of Seafield Golf Club and Judy Rooney for help with pictures.

The courageous Ian McCall has provided practical help as well as ongoing inspiration.

Special thanks to Mick Quinn for his supply of stories and to the wonderfully kind and enthusiastic Angie Henderson for her practical assistance.

Very special thanks to Ollie Campbell for agreeing to write the foreword and, more importantly, for his friendship down the years.

Thanks to Bill Campbell, Graeme Blaikie, Claire Rose, Emily Bland and all at Mainstream for their enthusiastic support of this book.

FOREWORD

ON MY LIFE, AS ON THAT OF MANY ANOTHER INTERNATIONAL, rugby has had a defining influence.

In 1948, six years before I was even born, Ireland, captained by Karl Mullen of Old Belvedere, won the Grand Slam for the first, and so far only, time when they beat Wales in Ravenhill by six points to three.

My dad, James Oliver (Ollie) Campbell, attended that game and I was weaned on the exploits of that infamous team, particularly the immortal and revered Jackie Kyle, my dad’s all-time sporting hero.

In December 1963, my dad brought me to Lansdowne Road for the first time, to see Ireland take on the mighty All Blacks.

The All Blacks won 6–5 and I was hooked, on rugby and on Ireland. My everlasting fascination with the All Blacks was also born on that day.

In early 1964, I saw my first-ever live match on TV – in Karl Mullen’s house. It was Ireland against England at Twickenham and I was a birthday guest of schoolmate Karl Mullen junior, who was celebrating his tenth birthday. I was then playing my first season at out-half, with the Belvedere College Under-10s. That day, I saw Mike Gibson play his first game for Ireland, in the number 10 jersey. Inspired by the immaculate Gibson, Ireland had a historic victory, winning 18–5, and I instantly had my own personal rugby idol.

Twelve years later, on 17 January 1976, I won my first cap, against Australia at Lansdowne Road, with Mike Gibson in the centre outside me. By that time, he had of course metamorphosed into Cameron Michael Henderson Gibson.

Then, in 1982, I was privileged to be on Ciaran Fitzgerald’s Ireland team, which won the Triple Crown for the first time in 33 years, and for the first time ever at Lansdowne Road, when we beat Scotland 21–12.

Although by now retired, I was of course at Lansdowne Road again in 1985 to witness Ciaran Fitzgerald lead Ireland to our second Triple Crown in four years when Michael Kiernan kicked that never-to-be-forgotten drop-goal against England in the dying minutes to win 13–10.

Nineteen years later, in 2004, I was fortunate to see at first hand another famous day in Irish rugby, when Brian O’Driscoll led Ireland to victory over Scotland by 37–16 to win only our seventh-ever Triple Crown. Of course, it was also very sweet to see Ireland beat England in 2006 to claim our eighth.

These unforgettable and personally enriching days apart, Irish rugby has of course known many other magnificent days. Unfortunately, we have also experienced many disappointing and very forgettable days in our 130-year history.

However, the one constant theme throughout the years of fluctuating fortunes has been the appearance of many brilliant individual players, and unique and colourful characters who have worn the emerald-green jersey of Ireland.

In this book, John Scally, who is as passionate about sport as any man I have ever met, recalls some, if not all, of these legendary players and gives an insight into their personalities and backgrounds that otherwise might never have seen the light of day.

That idol of mine, the incomparable Cameron Michael Henderson Gibson, once eloquently wrote that ‘rugby is like love, it is a game of touch and of feel and of instinct’.

I have no doubt that John has written this book, his 21st, with those same qualities of love, touch, feel and instinct. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Seamus Oliver (Ollie) Campbell

INTRODUCTION

TO BE OR NOT TO BE? THAT WAS THE QUESTION FOR HAMLET BUT for this scribe, the question was to include or to exclude. The most difficult part of writing this book was deciding which 40 players to feature. Any collection that is literally bookended by Brian O’Driscoll and Jack Kyle is an obvious celebration of great Irish rugby talent. I was spoilt for choice and acutely conscious that no matter what route I took I was not going to please everybody. To come close to cataloguing all the great players who have lined out for Ireland, I would need five books, not one. I am not claiming that the 40 legends in this book are the greatest Irish players. Several of them certainly are among those but pundits may query some of my choices. In that respect, I follow in the tradition of the Irish selectors!

The task I set myself was twofold: to pay homage to the legends of Irish rugby and to write an entertaining book. In doing so, I may have stretched the definition of ‘legend’ to get as much diversity and colour into the profiles as possible. I also wanted to honour some of the Irish players who have attained legendary status more for their activities off the pitch than for anything they ever did on it! Were I to include all the players in this category, I would have more chapters than the Bible! It does mean that some of the stories told in the book are more folklore than fact.

There is of course a case for extending ‘legends’ to people who have made a great contribution to Irish rugby in capacities other than as players. The late, much missed RTÉ radio commentator Tom Rooney, who will always be remembered for his legendary commentary on Noel Mannion’s famous try against Wales in 1989 (when the big Connacht number 8 got in the way of Bleddyn Bowen’s fly-kick and ran 70 yards to secure Ireland’s 19–13 win), is just one person who falls into this category, which would also include coaches like Eddie O’Sullivan. However, in this book I restrict myself to those who have worn the green shirt with distinction.

While I had many doubts about which players to include/exclude, the one selection decision that was never in doubt was the people to dedicate the book to: the aforementioned Tom Rooney and the late John McCall, who died so tragically and shockingly on 27 March 2004 on the field of play during Ireland’s game against New Zealand in the Under-19 World Cup in Durban, South Africa. Just two weeks previously, he had captained Royal School Armagh to victory in the Ulster Schools Cup. On the same day, Ireland won their first Triple Crown in 19 years. Poignantly, John’s uncle, Brian, was a substitute on Ireland’s last Triple Crown-winning team of 1985.

Death always sends a chill through the bones. Each death is a painful reminder of the ultimate and unwelcome end for us all. It is all the more harrowing when a young person dies and all the promise of a young life is denied. John’s death left the Irish rugby community in a state of numbed disbelief. Of course, the death was devastating for his family: his father, Ian; mother, Carolyn; brother, James and sister, Rebecca. As Ian observed to me, ‘My dad, who is 85 now, often said, “The old people used to say your own trouble is your own trouble.” I thought I knew what he meant but with John’s death, we now know all too well. Grief is very personal and can’t be shared or given away. We are now only starting to feel the depth of our loss. John, as I’m sure you would know, took up a lot of space in our home. However, we are sure we’ll all be together again some day and the way we feel, we would rather it was sooner than later.’

May he rest in peace.

1

THE LIFE OF BRIAN

‘THEY CALL HIM GOD. WELL, I RECKON HE’S A MUCH BETTER player than that.’

Thus spoke Stuart Barnes during the Sky Sports commentary on one of the all-time great tries. In his first Test for the Lions in 2001, Brian O’Driscoll left the world champions, Australia, looking as slow as growing grass as he ran half the field and scythed through their defence to score one of the greatest individual tries ever seen, the very signature of genius. Following his vintage displays for the Lions, O’Driscoll continued his dizzying ascent to become one of the very biggest names in world rugby. The French rugby legend Philippe Sella said of him, ‘Brian is like a locomotive.’ Tony Ward frequently refers to him as ‘He Who Walks on Water’. Matt Williams said, ‘Brian O’Driscoll was touched by God to run with the ball.’ His stunning tries against England and France in the 2005 Six Nations confirm that analysis. He is to the rugby aficionado what Nureyev was to the ballet enthusiast.

Fear can keep you a prisoner; hope can set you free. From his earliest days, O’Driscoll approached each international as if he expected to win, regardless of the opposition. This can-do philosophy was a breath of fresh air in Irish rugby.

Yet in real life, Brian O’Driscoll plays down any talk of stardom. He presents a powerful combination of charm, alert intelligence and lively spirit. A sense of habitual calm is communicated by the soft voice in which he speaks his well-constructed sentences and the expression of amiable serenity that is usually on his face. Although he possesses arguably the greatest arsenal of gifts the country has ever seen, he is not keen to speak at length about his achievements. On the pitch, he makes his own truth. He seems to be more at home there than anywhere else. It is to the fans’ benefit that he found himself articulate in such a wonderful language. His courage, like his endearing warmth and honesty, is in the inviolable core of his nature. Since making his international debut for Ireland in June 1999, against Australia in Brisbane, he has slowly come to terms with his celebrity status.

‘The thing about the media is that they tend to build you up into something you are not. And they do it early, before you’ve actually achieved anything. So just for a while at the start of my career, I was a little hesitant. I’m more relaxed now, after a couple of seasons at the top level.’

FAMILY TIES

O’Driscoll has been in thrall to the game of rugby for as long as he can remember. It helps that his father, Frank, played for Ireland and that his cousins, Barry and John, also played for Ireland. Indeed, John went on to play for the Lions and starred on Ireland’s Triple Crown-winning team in 1982. A kind, passionate but polite, thoroughly delightful man, Frank recalls Brian’s introduction to rugby with pure and undiluted happiness.

‘I can remember as if it were yesterday going to see Brian playing his first Schools match. I think he scored four tries on that day. After the game, people were asking, “Who is this new kid on the block?” Having been fortunate enough to play for Ireland myself, I always felt that if Brian got the breaks he would go on and play for the national team. I never had any doubt about whether he had the talent but in the past, the most talented players haven’t always made it, for a variety of reasons, like injury.

‘One of the proudest days for me was when Brian played his first game for Ireland at schoolboy level. I remember saying to my wife, Geraldine, on the way to the match, “Do you realise that only 14 other sets of parents in Ireland are going to experience what we are going to experience today?” I was so proud of him that day. Although he has done a lot of great things on the field, I am particularly proud of him because of his discipline. He never lets his social life interfere with his rugby. It’s always the other way round.’

O’Driscoll honed his craft in Ireland’s most famous rugby nursery, Blackrock College, having first made his mark at its feeder school, Willow Park.

‘During primary school, I played Gaelic football for my school, Belgrove in Clontarf. I also played tennis and soccer. My hero as a child was Mark Hughes. I was a big Manchester United fan and when things weren’t going well for them you could rely on Hughes to do something special. I was in awe of the fact that he scored so many spectacular goals and I admired his aggressiveness and competitiveness. I didn’t have too many rugby idols but if I did have to pick one it would be New Zealand’s Michael Jones. I think he was ahead of his time in the sense that he was able to mix the hard stuff of the forwards and the silky skills of the backs. He was a very graceful runner and he had a huge amount of skill.

‘Everything changed for me when I went to Willow Park when I was 12. In my first-ever training session, I was put in the second row. Needless to say, I wouldn’t be the biggest player in the world, so it wasn’t until I was moved to the backs that I really cemented my position. I was pushed onto the B team and then the A team within a few weeks. As a 12 year old, I was quite fast; people’s legs grew quicker than mine in the following years but eventually I caught up with them.’

At Blackrock, he was noticed by a man who would have a significant impact on his international career a decade later – future Ireland coach Eddie O’Sullivan. In conversation with this writer, O’Sullivan recalled his early impressions of the brightest star in Irish rugby: ‘Brian O’Driscoll burst onto the scene in pretty explosive style. I remember seeing him at school in Blackrock College when I worked there for a while. He was quite small then but suddenly got this great growth spurt and turned into a fine athlete. He has something special. He’s very gifted in terms of athleticism and in terms of football skills but he’s also a very intelligent guy. He’s got that key thing that makes him different from everyone else, in that he can perform at the highest level under the greatest pressure and still come through. That’s the biggest test for any athlete.’

At Blackrock College, O’Driscoll paraded all the fluent skills that would characterise his international career: great speed and an almost unique combination of attacking and defensive qualities. Those talents brought him to the attention of the international selectors.

‘My debut for Ireland came in June 1999. I had been brought on the tour of Australia having sat on the bench for one of the Six Nations games. I played a few games on the tour before I was selected to play in the centre with Kevin Maggs in the First Test in Brisbane. I was lucky to play for Ireland when I was so young. It was a huge honour for me and something that I had always hoped to rise to at some stage of my career but to have it come at such an early age was incredible for me and something I really cherished. I had mixed emotions, because we got a bad beating but at the same time I’d won my first cap. I probably got to enjoy my Second Test more, because we really pushed the Aussies all the way. I had heard people say that your first cap always goes by so quickly that you can’t really take it all in and enjoy it. That was my experience too.

‘At the start, things weren’t going so well for Ireland. The low point was probably losing to Argentina in the World Cup back in Lens in 1999. That defeat was crushing. I think we panicked as a team towards the end and our 13-man lineout probably showed we were a bit short of ideas.

‘It was just as bad when we lost so heavily to England the following year. After that, a lot of changes were made, the team started to improve and we started to win again. When you have bad losses as well as great victories, you become very philosophical and realise that when you are down, the team is probably not as bad as people say you are and that when you win, you are not the world-beaters that everybody says you are.’

THE FRENCH CONNECTION

Happier times were around the corner and in 2000 O’Driscoll dramatically announced his arrival on the world stage with a stunning performance in Paris, culminating in his three tries.

‘When we went to play France, nobody expected us to even challenge the French, which probably took a lot of weight off our shoulders. I look back at the pictures and see the joy on our faces for having achieved something that Irish teams had failed to do for 28 years. We were overwhelmed at the end and it was really a fantastic feeling. For me to have scored three tries was a nice bonus!

‘The third try sticks out most of all. What most people probably don’t realise is that I shouldn’t have been where I was when I got the ball. I was just trying to catch a breather before I got back into position but the ball squirted out in front of me and I went for the gap. That try took us to within two points of them and convinced us that we could win the game. A lot of people have remarked that Émile Ntamack didn’t make a great effort to tackle me and I’m only glad he didn’t come crashing into me!’

O’Driscoll is fortunate in having a temperament that gets energised rather than drained by the big occasion. The bigger the occasion the more he likes it; in fact, where Brian is least relaxed is watching a game he is not playing in.

‘I know some people will probably feel this is strange but I was far more nervous watching the 1997 Lions tour of South Africa when I was back home in Dublin staring at the television set than I was on the field in Brisbane for the First Test in 2001. When you’re playing, you have no time to dwell on things. Mind you, I was aware of the crowd at the Gabba. Just looking up into that sea of red as we ran out was enough to put us on our toes, but when the Wallabies appeared and the boos drowned out the cheers it was just unbelievable.’

O’Driscoll looks back on the tour with mixed feelings.

‘If we had gone on to win the series that First Test would probably have been a major highlight of my career but because we lost the series, it doesn’t have the same glow in my memory. We were fairly surprised at what we achieved in the opening 50 minutes of the First Test in particular but all the gaps were closed up for the next two Tests. When you are a part of a tour like that, every result counts in terms of morale and encouragement. The First Test gave us a big lift but losing the other two was a crushing blow.’

There is a limit to the amount of resolution you can muster from your own resources. When things hit a rocky patch, you need the example and inspiration of others to help sustain your will to fight the good fight. O’Driscoll is fortunate to have the support of such a united family behind him, particularly as he is now so much in the public eye. Ours is an age in thrall to an almost mystical concept of celebrity. Brian’s mother, Geraldine, is all too aware of this.

‘The France game in 2000, when he scored the three tries, changed everything for Brian and indeed for us. I first realised that when I was introduced to someone after the match and they said, “This is Geraldine O’Driscoll. She used to be Frank O’Driscoll’s wife. Now she’s Brian O’Driscoll’s mother!”

‘That game was on a Sunday and shortly after the match, we had to rush for the train to be home for work the next day. One of our daughters was in Australia at the time and she rang us on the mobile. She said, “Mum, after Brian’s three tries I’m now a minor celebrity here!”

‘Probably the most interesting experience of all came in Australia during the Lions tour. After the First Test when Brian scored the famous try, Frank and I got on the bus with a gang of Lions supporters. We sat at the back of the bus and nobody knew who we were. Then the crowd burst into song. They started singing “Waltzing O’Driscoll”. Frank and I said nothing. We just nodded at each other but it was actually very emotional.’

One of his squadmates, Austin Healey, was somewhat less respectful, throwing chips at O’Driscoll in Manly High Street, which led to him being dive-bombed by seagulls.

CAPTAIN SENSIBLE

A major landmark in O’Driscoll’s career came in March 2004 when he captained Ireland to their first Triple Crown in 19 years.

‘In the Scotland game, we had to wear them down a bit. These Six Nations aren’t easy and a lot of the time you mightn’t pull away till the end, which was the case in this one. There was another agenda in this game. [Former Leinster coach] Matt Williams was coming back to Lansdowne Road. He had a point to prove because Scotland’s campaign up to then had been disastrous. Added to the mix there was the fact that he literally knows the way the wind blows in the Lansdowne from his time as Leinster and Ireland A coach and his intimate knowledge of so many of the players he once coached on the Irish team. There had to be an element of proving the critics wrong.

‘We weren’t second-guessing what was going on in his mind. We were concentrating on playing to the best of our ability and we felt that if we were to do that, we could and would win the game.’

The high point of his career came when he was chosen to captain the 2005 Lions tour to New Zealand. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. O’Driscoll’s tour came to an abrupt and controversial end when he was the victim of a tackle of ‘questionable sportsmanship’ by Tana Umaga and Kevin Mealamu in the first minute of the First Test, sustaining a dislocated shoulder.

Rugby has opened a lot of doors for O’Driscoll.

‘I loved the chances to play for the Barbarians because they play a seven-man game with fifteen players on the team. That’s the way I’d describe it. My first experience was very exciting, even the build-up was thrilling, playing with people you’d not normally have the opportunity to work with was very special. Just to experience it was incredible. Training with Carlos Spencer, who was a childhood hero of mine, was great. Seeing the tricks he was doing in training left me flabbergasted but I had to pretend to be taking everything he was doing in my stride!’

Which rugby player would he most like to be compared with?

‘If I had to be compared with anyone, I suppose I would like to be compared with Australia’s Tim Horan. He could mix his game a huge amount and was in the World Cup-winning side of 1991 at a very young age. The fact that he could mix running skills and hard tackling makes him the complete rugby player and a lot of his skills I tried to emulate.’

O’Driscoll is aware that his status within the game is something of a mixed blessing.

‘Rugby is a different kind of world than it was in Ollie Campbell’s time. With the onset of professional rugby, people are interested in what rugby players are doing when they are not playing or training. They are interested in what we are doing socially and now, to a degree, who we are dating. At times this can get a bit frustrating and annoying but I guess it is part and parcel of the game. For the most part, it is great but there is an element of people prying into your life too much. I am happy to have people judging me on my rugby but I think my private life should be private.

‘The commercial side of rugby has really taken off. My dad is my agent, if you like, though he prefers the term “manager”. He is able to continue in his medical practice and it is great that he is able to look after my affairs because I know I can trust him.’

Brian still has unfinished rugby business.

‘The Heineken Cup is a fantastic competition which I would like to win with Leinster. People don’t realise just how difficult it is in terms of what you have to do to win. You have to win at least eight out of nine games and you have to keep going till the season ends with the final at the end of May. It’s caught the imagination of the public, especially since so many of the games are televised. In the past everyone thought that the Super 12 in the southern hemisphere was the ultimate but as the Heineken Cup has established itself as a major competition it has narrowed the gap in standard between the northern and southern hemispheres because it means that players here now consistently play club rugby at a very high level.

‘Some years, the way the fixtures fall – as in a World Cup year, a lot of Test matches – takes its toll on the body. The Celtic League is useful because when the provinces have lost players due to international duty, the teams need a practice match to get the players reintegrated again before they play a big game in the Heineken Cup. The League is perfect for that, as well as the opportunity to blood new players.’

The downside of the number of games is that the chances of getting seriously injured have increased dramatically.

‘You have insurance in your contract but at the same time a huge number of professional players take out their own personal insurance in case something happens to them that ends their career prematurely. Every year, more and more people are having to retire early because there are more career-finishing injuries. The hits are bigger in professional rugby. I always remember my grandfather telling me that anybody who went into a tackle trying to mind themselves always came out worse in the end and if you have that mindset, you will put your body on the line.’

O’Driscoll has already achieved so much. What does he still hope to achieve?

‘I suppose I’ve reached the stage where I’ve got a bit selfish. A few years ago, I just wanted to play for Ireland. Now I want to play on an Irish side that can win things or make a serious challenge for honours.’

He pauses for reflection when asked what advice he would give any young player today.

‘Whatever you decide to do, give it your best shot. If you play a team sport, always remember that your first obligation is not to yourself but to your team.

‘The best piece of advice I’ve ever been given was from my old coach at UCD [University College Dublin], Lee Smith. Lee always wrote out a couple of sentences on a piece of paper for each player before a match telling you what he wanted you to do and what your role on the team was but when he came around to me, he said, “Just go out and play your own game.” Such a small thing made a big difference, and inspired me and gave me a lot of confidence to go out and play well, because I thought very highly of Lee and I still do.’

A GOOD WALK SPOILED

Never was O’Driscoll’s ability to play his own game more tellingly illustrated than in his decisive break in the last minute of the 2006 Championship match against England to set up the try that saw Ireland claim its second Triple Crown under his captaincy. As a keen golfer, meanwhile, Brian has a high-profile association with Seafield Golf Club. He enjoys the story of the two Mexican detectives who were investigating the murder of Juan Gonzalez.

‘How was he killed?’ asked one detective.

‘With a golf gun,’ the other detective replied.

‘A golf gun?! What the heck is a golf gun?’

‘I’m not certain, but it sure made a hole in Juan!’

2

MR D’ARCY

WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF GORDON D’ARCY.

10 p.m., 10 November 2004. Twelve hours earlier, it has been announced in the national media that he is one of the elite Irish sports personalities who has been chosen for a prestigious Texaco Sportstars Award. Every hour, on the hour, the story has been told on every radio station in the country. I ring the reigning IRB Northern Hemisphere Player of the Year to congratulate him on his award. He has no idea what I’m talking about. As he digests the information, his reaction is instructive. While he is happy to be honoured, there is no hint of euphoria or elation. His instinct is not to look back on former glories but to look to the future and how he can make his contribution to Irish rugby in the years ahead by becoming an even better player.

Few dreams come true. Rugby dreamers tend to see a terrific rainbow every time it rains, so when a new sensation’s limitations are exposed, it is a crushing let-down. Dreamers are forever assuring themselves that the next truly great player is on the horizon, but, like the skyline, he never comes any closer, remaining always just out of reach. The problem is easily identified – much more difficult to remedy. Gordon D’Arcy was to change all that.

Few players have ever announced their arrival on the Six Nations stage with a louder blare of trumpets than D’Arcy in 2004. If there is one moment that will forever define his impact that season, it came in the last minute of the match against Scotland which sealed Ireland’s Triple Crown. Eddie O’Sullivan was making a bench clearance and D’Arcy was one of the players to be called ashore. He had scored two tries and consistently tormented the Scottish defence with his powerful and intelligent running; the cheer for him nearly raised the rafters.

From the start of that campaign, Irish rugby followers took to him with extraordinary warmth, not just because of the subtlety and invention and spirit of adventure that enabled him to terrorise opposing defenders; above all, they loved his all-action style, like a mighty atom, and relentless pursuit of every opportunity to take off on an incisive run. Allied to this, his creativity on the ball, his genius for penetration and his killing finish commanded their respect. His fusion of great commitment and dazzling skills was the stuff of cult status and instant sporting legend. It had not always been clear, though, that he was destined to light up the rugby landscape so dramatically.

‘My next-door neighbour Peter Redmond got me into rugby. To this day, he still claims that he taught me everything I know about rugby but not everything he knows! He’s a gas lad. I also played a lot at home with my brother, Ian. He remains the hardest player I ever had to play against and many’s the time his crunching tackles left me bruised and battered. When I went to Clongowes, I started as a hooker and played there until I was 14. Then I moved to out-half, which was a pretty major positional switch!

‘The late Vinny Murray was a huge influence on me as I came through schoolboy level. As a coach he was able to get the most out of me. I can look back now and think, “That’s what he was trying to achieve when he did that.” It would have been great if he’d been around to see the fruits of his labour, even though I made him work hard for it!

‘Of course, my dad has been a great influence on me. He knows very little about rugby but thinks he knows everything about the game! My dad has always been my harshest critic. I made the World Cup squad in ’99 but didn’t get a game. After that, for years, he would ring me before the Irish squad was due to be announced and say, “Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get picked.” I would think, “Of course I’ll be picked.” Up to 2004, I generally wasn’t picked. I swear to God, to this day, every time the Irish squad is picked my heart is pounding and I’m silently praying, “Just let me be in it.” It never gets any easier.’

WILD THING?

Before 2004, there had been a number of hints in newspaper articles that D’Arcy had a problem with his attitude. How accurate was that perception?

‘When I first started playing rugby, I had a very blasé approach. I was enjoying playing rugby but I was carrying that casual attitude into my preparation and training, and it just gave off the wrong vibe. It took me a while to realise that more commitment was needed. When you have established yourself as a consistently top-class player, you don’t have to be too worried about the vibe you give off but when you are trying to break into a new team it is important, because other people make judgements about you on the basis of that rather than what you can do on the pitch. It took me a while to adjust to that.’

Some sports personalities are in the business of self-justification. When the former Chelsea player Adrian Mutu was asked why he tested positive for cocaine, he replied, ‘I got into this situation because of some complicated matters with my soul.’ D’Arcy is refreshingly candid.

‘I don’t think saying I had a bad attitude is the most accurate way of portraying it. I just had my own way. When I look back at it now, I came straight out of school and into a professional set-up. I probably wasn’t given the direction initially. I probably should have been put into an Under-21 squad or on a regimented programme where someone said, “You are a stone and a half overweight, you need to lose that, then we will work on your fitness etc.” Instead it was very haphazard. I was here and there working with different people but nobody was actually telling me what to do. When I look back at it now, I think I wasted a lot of time then. It wasn’t that I was resisting anybody or had a bad attitude, because people like that don’t last in sport.

‘What amazed me was that certain people in the media were looking for a story to latch on to and a story about Matt Williams, my coach at Leinster at the time, finding me drunk got legs and started turning up everywhere. My attitude, though, was that one incident doesn’t sum me up as a person. I was doing things my way. I was playing exciting rugby in my eyes, like running the ball from my own five-metre line – sometimes it came off, sometimes it didn’t. As a 19 year old, the consequences of your actions aren’t all that relevant. People say, “He was a crazy, crazy kid.” I wasn’t. I was just a regular 19 year old.’

MATT-ER OF FACT

What then is his assessment of Matt Williams?

‘Mattie has his pros and cons. He gave me a little correction and he said I wasn’t professional enough. I thought I was but I wasn’t. I didn’t see the need to kick, because I thought I could run my way out of trouble but he said, “No – you have to be able to kick with both feet.”

‘Mattie probably did more for the set-up at Leinster in general than for any player in particular. There was a lot of talk that he resurrected Reggie Corrigan’s and Victor Costello’s careers but I don’t think that’s true. There’s a great saying that when you are down and out and on the ground nobody can pick you up. People can hold out their hand but in the end you have to pick yourself up off the floor. Matt gave us a lot of the tools we needed to help ourselves. When he first came, he brought in revolutionary changes, like us having a sports massage every Monday morning. At the time, we were all saying, “That’s crazy.” Now we have two a week and we don’t even think about it. He revolutionised Leinster rugby and fought hard for the players. He told us that he would shout and curse at us behind closed doors but in public, he would defend us to the hilt. In fairness to him, that’s exactly what he did.’

HOME AND AWAY

D’Arcy was controversially omitted from the Irish World Cup squad in 2003.

‘That will go down as one of the low points of my life. I always said when I made the first World Cup in ’99 that I would like to play in four World Cups. I might still play in 2011 but if so, it will be my third and not my fourth. It was between Paddy Wallace and myself for the one spot. It was a call that had to be made, and you live and die by those calls. There have been calls that have gone my way since, like when Brian (O’Driscoll) was injured before the France game in 2004.

‘I remember I was inconsolable when I heard I had missed out on the squad. I was talking to a schoolteacher friend of mine and I asked in a wailing tone, “What’s going to happen to me now?” He calmly said, “Well, you’re going to be able to play eight games at full-back for Leinster and you’re always saying that you want to play at full-back.” It helped me to start thinking positively again.’

The popular perception was that his omission from the World Cup squad was the catalyst D’Arcy needed to finally get his act together and fulfil his true potential. Not for the first time in his career, the real story was more complex.

‘It was easy for people to write that missing out on the World Cup was what spurred me on to perform in 2004 but that is not the case. When I wasn’t getting picked for Ireland, I lost my enjoyment of playing rugby and I lost the things I enjoyed about the game, like beating a man one-on-one or putting in a good tackle. During the World Cup, I started to enjoy my rugby again. At Leinster, Gary Ella had replaced Matt Williams as coach. I got on brilliantly with him and my career flourished once more. He gave me a free role. I asked him before one game, “Is there anything you want me to do?” and he said, “If you see it, do it.”

‘“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?”

‘“No, not really, mate.”

‘“OK.”

‘I was just smiling after a game and I was training well because I was so looking forward to playing again, and that was what re-energised me. I didn’t consciously say, “I’m going to get my place on the Irish team” or “I’m going to train harder”. I was just enjoying it more.’

His international redemption came almost by accident.

‘There wasn’t much cover in either Leinster or Ireland for the centre positions. During the run-up to a Leinster game, Gary Ella casually asked me one day, “Do you want to go 13?” It really was as casual as that. We were walking onto the pitch and we were having a little banter.

‘I replied, “Well, do you want me to play 13?”

‘“Well, what do you think?”

‘“Yeah, OK. We’ll see how it goes.”

‘It seemed to work for Leinster, and Eddie O’Sullivan gave it a try against France.’

PARISIAN ADVENTURE

Brian O’Driscoll’s injury allowed D’Arcy to take his place on the Irish team for the opening Six Nations fixture in Paris. Yet some shook their heads and said that playing for the national team in the cauldron atmosphere of such a match would be too big a leap. It was an extraordinary burden for such an inexperienced player to carry but, driven by a fierce determination and that most magical of qualities, a big-match temperament, D’Arcy refused to buckle under the pressure.

‘I had five caps before I started the Six Nations game against France in 2004. The experience of those caps and of being in and out of the Irish squad probably helped me for a start.’

He came into a side with a clear mission.

‘People said we were a “nearly team” before we won the Triple Crown. I remember Brian O’Driscoll saying when we beat Australia in 2002, “Let’s not be the nearly team, let’s not get the good win now and again; let’s strive to beat the big guns consistently.” I think we did that winning the Triple Crown. We had beaten France in 2000, England in 2001 and Australia in 2002 but we hadn’t strung enough good results together against top opposition. Winning the Triple Crown took that monkey off our back and gave us a base to build on. When we went on to tour to South Africa, a good performance was no longer losing by only ten points. A good performance was nothing less than a win.’

Five years after winning his first cap against Romania in the ’99 World Cup, D’Arcy was finally to stamp his distinctive mark on international rugby.

‘There were a few moments before the France game that stand out for me. You train for the start of week with a squad of 30. Then, on the Wednesday, a squad of 22 was announced. I was in the 22 and I thought “Wow. I’m going to be on the bench.” I presumed they were going to go for a different combination in the centre but I was pretty sure that I would win another cap at some stage in the match by coming on as a replacement.

‘Then the team was called out. I heard “D’Arcy 13”. I was in a state of shock. After that, we went to training. Eddie [O’Sullivan] said to me, “Relax, play your game and when you get the ball, run hard.” It was the best advice I ever got.

‘The other thing I remember is arriving at the Stade de France before the match. I had heard a lot about it but never been in it. I remember when we turned a corner on the team bus there it stood in front of us and I actually couldn’t see as far as the top of it because it was so huge. I walked out with Malcolm O’Kelly to throw the ball around. You had to look almost straight up to see the sunlight.

‘As the game started, I just wanted the ball. From the kick-off, we went straight at them but two defensive mistakes, two simple things, cost us fourteen points and the game. I went to [the well-known Irish pub] Kitty O’Shea’s afterwards and met my brothers and sisters who had travelled over for the match, and that was great.

‘For me, the Wales game was massive. It was my first start at home for Ireland and I felt really in the zone. Your first home game is amazing and it was also Brian’s first game back from his injury. Playing with Brian makes my job a lot easier. Everyone knows he is a great player but I honestly think people don’t fully appreciate how good he is and all the things he does on the pitch. People remember the flashy stuff he does, like the tries, but they don’t see the amount of bread-and-butter stuff he gets through in a match. If people only knew the amount of work he does on the pitch, they would be in awe. From a selfish point of view, his great value is that he creates more space for me. He actually creates more time on the ball for you. Hopefully, a time will come when I can repay him and create as much space for him as he has for me.

‘The English game was special. All week, everybody was “locked and loaded” as Eddie likes to put it. The great thing was that the squad, players and staff had gelled together so well, and our play on the field reflected that. Brian made a throwaway comment that he hoped Ireland might make the Twickenham crowd “choke on their prawn sandwiches”. Of course, the English media whipped up a storm about it but we didn’t let it faze us in the slightest.

‘Before the game, we did a warm-up and you could feel the energy running through the side. Rog [Ronan O’Gara] was playing so well, and was able to give Brian and myself the type of ball we needed – that made a huge difference. A big part of the game plan for that match was for Rog to throw wide, flat passes to Brian and myself. When we came in at half-time, the question was asked, “Is anybody tired?” The answer was an emphatic “No” from everyone. These are the world champions and we are going to win. They can’t beat us. The try we scored from our own 22 was my favourite Ireland team try ever. I remember speaking to Eddie that evening and saying, “I’d say that put a smile on your face.”

‘“What?”

‘“That try was exactly what you were getting us to do during the week.”

‘“Yeah.”

‘He wasn’t saying it in a smug way, he was just satisfied that everybody had done exactly what they were supposed to do.

‘I know I got two tries in the Scotland game but, going on the stats, my best game was against England, in terms of ball-carrying and so on. I was more satisfied with my performance in the England game than in the Scotland game. I was 14 the last time Ireland had won at Twickenham, in 1994, when Simon Geoghegan got that try in the corner. I was jumping up and down, and I didn’t even like rugby then! So that was a big one to win.

‘The England game was the critical one that season. From 1 to 22, we believed that we were going to win that game. The preparation had gone well all week, the self-belief was there, which was a huge thing. The popular view was that we were the underdogs but in the squad, not a single one of us believed that. We felt we were as good as them.

‘The problem with the Scottish game was that they were like a cornered dog. It was going to be a five-game whitewash for them, so we knew it was going to be a tough game. Down through the years, one of the things that’s always bugged me about Irish sport is that we’re not comfortable about being favourites. We’re much happier as underdogs, grinding out a result. You have to get used to being favourites. People say it is a weight around your neck; I think it’s time we saw it the other way, as something you wear on your shoulders to make you feel taller. We need to develop that mentality. Up to the last 20 minutes against Scotland, we were grinding away with them. Finally, we pulled away from them. Winning the Triple Crown was something I hadn’t even dreamed about because it happens so seldom.’

What is his personal highlight from that magical season?

‘My second try against Scotland was the last nail in the coffin and effectively sealed the Triple Crown but it was my first try that day that was the most satisfying for me because it was a much better score.’

After the match, though, D’Arcy was to find himself involved in a memorable moment off the pitch.

THE RIGHT HOOK

Irish sport has been blessed with television pundits like John Giles, Eamon Dunphy, Pat Spillane, Colm O’Rourke and Ger Loughnane, who have been informing and entertaining for years. More recently, a new triumvirate has been created on RTÉ television: Tom McGurk, George Hook and Brent Pope. What makes the dynamic between them so intriguing is that the viewer is never too clear as to whether Tom and George like each other.

It is not overstating things to say that Hook’s style is unique. Asked why Leinster lost to Perpignan in the Heineken Cup in 2003, he replied, ‘It’s in Mrs Beeton’s cookery book – recipe, chicken soup. First, catch your chicken. This team has not caught their chicken since this championship started; today that chicken has come home to roost. That’s why they’re in the manure they’re in.’ He does not spare people’s sensibilities: ‘If Frankie Sheahan was playing William Tell, his son would have an arrow in his chest and not in his apple.’ After Ireland’s surprise capitulation to the Scots in 2001, the Right Hook observed, ‘Scotland are . . . I nearly said the nymphomaniacs . . . of course I mean kleptomaniacs of world rugby.’

Brent Pope, too, can get a good barbed comment in. Noticing that the Irish captain was carrying a few spare pounds around his waistline, he said, ‘Brian O’Driscoll’s been going to the same gym as George Hook.’